Rebel's Song
by Raynedark
Summary: Hiro's midnight ramblings as he goes to Kyoto. The aftermath of what happens in Kyoto. Shonen ai (duh) HiroxTatsuha. Sorta AU, and complete! Chapter 2 fight fixed, so reread it and tell me what you think! Rated for language.
1. Dark Silk and the Song of the Stars

Hey, hey! Don't own Gravitation, do own this fic!

Sorry if it's a bit cliché and stuff. It's also sorta AU, but I think it's decent anyway. Not as good as Maintaining Splendor though! My only piece I like.

Anywho. This is for you Miss Nanoda. You know who you are (most of the time), so here you go. Livenju!

Dark Silk and the Song of the Stars

Night. The coloring was dark blue with hints of grey, green and black. It wasn't quiet. It hardly ever is in the city. Traffic blared to the south and east. Planes hummed their tales of travel to anyone who could stand to listen. The wind, bitter and cold, and alluding to winter, blended all of these noises into one pleasurable discord.

In the park, filled with snow and hibernating trees, someone moved despite the cold and the hour. Someone was brooding and shadowed. Someone had a look of discontent upon his face. Someone was Hiroshi Nakano.

_"You know what they say about the road to hell and good intentions." _The words ran through his head. Taunting, teasing and never quite leaving. He regarded the past few weeks with a sorrowful retrospect. He thought he was doing good. He thought he had been motivating Shuichi when he had bribed Tatsuha. Perhaps he thought too much; and he was doing it again.

Hiro kicked a snow pile viciously as he thought about thinking. "What's wrong with me?" The words seemed to solidify in the frozen air. The fact that something was amiss with him and that he could not delve deep enough into himself to find just what was amiss.

He walked on.

He had no clue where he was walking to, but the cold, crisp, clean air felt like it helped to clear his mind, or at least to numb it. This night though, there seemed to be no end to the questions and contradictions in his mind. He was alone. He wanted to talk. He wanted someone to know what was wrong. _He _wanted to know what was wrong.

Absently he scuffed along the slippery brick walkway, hands in pockets, head bowed, puffing plumes of blue-white breath into the night.

Think gold. Warm, colorful and humorous. The cooking show. Looking back, it was hilarious and they had filled their part well. They had provided the needed laughs. Shuichi was completely manic and he was trying his hardest. They had come out at best with a carrot and peas and some burnt something that may have once been food.

So they couldn't cook. Not many people could. He couldn't, Shuichi couldn't, Tatsuha had been their only hope, and he had failed too.

Hiro got defensive again. Tatsuha. How could that man kiss his own brother's boyfriend? Easily. Regarding the life that the young monk led, it was easy to believe that he would kiss anything that moved. He had even tried to kiss Hiro. What was that about?

It was because of his hair. Tatsuha mistook him for a girl. Common enough. Frustrating enough too. But Hiro held his own. Very well in fact. He almost lost it when his shirt got peeled off by that horny young man though.

He dredged up that fear and waiting once more. He felt the same compulsion to keep the blood from running into his face, and that same something in his stomach. Apprehension, maybe? Fear? Hardly excitement. He laughed into the cacophonous night and looked up to the blank grey sky. There were no stars in the city.

No real stars. Nothing made by nature and something that no one understood. Only the fabricated fame of the big city. Only the glow of the limelight. Straining his ears, he listened for the song of the stars. He heard only the mask of sound that came from the writhing metropolis.

Dropping his gaze from the sky, he found himself at the train station that was at the other side of the park. He had his wallet with him. Perhaps he was supposed to take a ride. Yes. A little vacation sounded good.

He would go to Kyoto to spend some time with Ayaka. He smiled at the thought of the surprise on her face when he walked in. He didn't have a change of clothes with him, but that was all right. Clothes wouldn't matter. He mattered. She mattered. She could help him sort this all out.

He stepped up to the booth. It was closed. There was no person inside and there was a sign on the window. It had a large, blocky, black arrow on it pointing right. It pointed to a machine.

Hiro pitied the man that had lost his job to the sterile piece of technology. Nevertheless, that sterile piece of the future would help him get to Kyoto so he pressed the button for his destination, inserted his money, and waited while the thing whirred and clicked and printed out his ticket. Tearing it along the perforations he went to the bench to wait for the train.

It was fifteen minutes coming. Not that bad. It was fast too. He would be to Kyoto in three hours. Maybe, he yawed and stretched, maybe he would be able to sleep on the train. Maybe traveling towards the light of a better, clearer day would sooth his savage mind. He nodded in consent with himself and relaxed after the stretch. Hiro felt his eyelids dropping already.

He stood as the train pulled in. Yellow incandescence burst into his eyes as the train squealed and hissed to a stop. The doors clattered, hissed, and folded open decanting the yellow light forth from the cabin. A shadow darkened the door and stepped out, followed by three others, and then the doorman.

"Boarding all at Tokyo!" Nakano winced at the loud voice. He stepped up to the man. "Where to son?"

"Kyoto." He flashed his ticket. The man grabbed it, punched a hole in it and let him pass. Behind him, another potential passenger was assaulted with words, harsh and over said.

Hiro picked a seat in the middle of the empty car and sat with his forehead against the window. He looked at the dark, metal tracks through the reflection of the inside on the window. It formed an odd superimposition.

"Do I know you?" The voice was quiet and very curious. The sentence was repeated again before Hiro heard. "What? Know me. I highly doubt it. I don't come this way often," he lied blatantly as he had so many times before.

"Hm," said the man, "Are you sure. Haven't been on TV, or at the In Tune magazine company office before?"

"Nope, never. I'm just going back home to Kyoto. I was visiting relatives here and seeing the big city."

"Where's your baggage then?" the man asked taking a haughty tone. Feeling finished with the conversation Hiro tapped his temple. "It's all in here." He gave an obnoxiously polite smile and the man walked off muttering.

A few minutes later the train lurched to a start, but Hiro didn't feel it. He was fast asleep on his seat. Still the look of trouble played across his sleeping face and wandered aimlessly through his dreams.

"What then? I couldn't hear you!" He shouted over the strange roar and beat the pulsed in the foggy air around him. He could see Ayaka in the distance, she was crying and saying something. But the infernal pulsing was getting in the way of his hearing. "What! I can't hear you!" he yelled and tried to move forward but only found himself miraculously on his back. He struggled to roll over but something clung to him.

"Mmm, don't leave me Hiroshi." Tatsuha cuddled closer to Hiro. Shock and fear erupted and the scene color changed. Everything was shot through with red and purple. He tried to move away, but only his mind went. His body would not respond. Instead he watched his hand slip lazily through Tatsuha's dark hair.

He went over and beat his body. That wasn't right. That was gross.

No. Something rejected the feeling of disgust. Something in him accepted it and he set back into his body. He felt the silky hair running through his fingers and the soft warm cheek on his naked chest. He also felt content.

"Stop for Kyoto in five minutes!" called the doorman. Hiro jerked awake. The remnants of the dream flitted through him and he felt that contention and silk in his fingers. His conscious mind reeled at the mere thought. Something stopped it though. Just like in the dream. Something wanted desperately to keep that silken hair in his hands and that face on his chest. Something in him was wrong. Now he knew what.

"Five minutes. Get your tickets ready!" Hiroshi winced at the booming voice again. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he fished in his pockets for his ticket. His fingers brushed upon the smooth surface of the ticket. More pieces of the dream came to him. He could feel that cheek again.

His mind wandered carelessly. Were those cheeks really so soft? Was that hair really so silky? What was the rest of Tatsuha like? Hiro whacked his head. What was he thinking?!

Shaking his head as if to clear it he pulled out his ticket and felt the train slow. Slowly he was leaned forward in his seat by the stopping motion. When all was still, he rose. The other man was already walking forward, briefcase in hand. He glared at Hiro. Hiro smiled and waved a little wave.

His ticket was punched, and then he was off the train. The doors rattled closed behind him and all light was cut off. Only the stars, clear and simmering in the winter night, gave him light. Walking off the platform he cocked an ear to the sky.

Like a thousand distant, tiny wind chimes, the song of the _real_ stars came to him. He didn't know if anyone else had heard it for the minute, but he had.

One day, he knew it; he would capture that song for his own. He would be able to make that music himself. Shuichi would make that music. Suguru would make that music. One day, they would write the song of the stars. They only needed inspiration.

One maybe it was just him. Suguru had inspiration in his cousin and becoming better than him. Shuichi had inspiration in his lover Eiri Yuki. So what did he have?

A breeze became tangled in his fingers. He felt an itch to create there. He felt dark silk there.

With a shiver he started off towards the temple. It was barely five minutes walk from the platform. "Hey," he heard the voice behind him, "Have a good night Hiroshi Nakano-sama." Smiling, a real smile this time, Hiro put his hands up in surrender to the man, then spun on his heel, inserted hands into pockets and made his way through the streets to the little temple in the little park, in the little city.

He listened again to the world. It was quieter than Tokyo. It was darker than Tokyo. Then again, he was in the outer reaches of the city. He sighed and looked at the stars and then the open gates of the park and temple.

Ancient cherry trees scrabbled their bare limbs to the sky. They seemed to want to catch the stars as well. Snow blanketed the lawn and shimmered lightly in the starlight haze. In the courtyard Hiro's steps echoed with a quiet tap, tap, tap. He smiled at the thought of who awaited him here. He saw the dark hair in his mind. He saw the narrow, black eyes, and thin lips of Tatsuha vividly.

He hit himself again and replaced the image of the boy with the image of the girl. He then blamed the mishap on the time and his groggy state. The time. The turquoise light flashed on his watched dial. It was one in the morning.

He wouldn't care. She! He hit himself again and pushed open the heavy wood door of the temple.

A candle flickered down by the alter. A figure was bowed there, praying. She had a beautiful silhouette. Removing his shoes and setting them aside, he began his quiet walk up to her. He could feel her shoulder, thin and small, under his palm now. He could feel her feminine hand is his now.

The cold of the stone floor seeped through his socks. Suppressing a shiver, he put out his hand. "Hey," he whispered, voice almost completely eaten up by the massive, dark chamber.

The figure twirled. The candle tipped and flickered out on the stone. He knew that this was the wrong person. Panic ceased him, as did a pair of strong hands. Someone taller than himself pulled him close.

His heart beat with reckless abandon in his chest. He could feel the warm breath closing in on his face as the hands gripped his arms steadily, restricting flight.

Warm lips brushed his. A sly tongue darted out. Hiroshi was melting. He couldn't move. He didn't want to. He was finding out what he had been so curious about. He was learning what was wrong and how to remedy it. He was learning love.

The pushing from his arms became a pulling. He wanted to be closer to Tatsuha. He wanted to know this man and everything about him. Physical, mental, spiritual. Everything. Nothing would be left unturned. He let his mouth explore this other man's mouth. He tasted the sweetness of Tatsuha's tongue on his own and felt the nips of teeth on his lips.

He let his hands climb. They ventured toward the dark silk hair. They anticipated the feel. They predicted the feel. Then, they knew the feel. Each strand soft and light and becoming ensnared in his hands. Hands that sought for cheeks. Sought to know the truth. Yes, cheeks that truly were smooth and silky. Hiro rubbed his thumbs over those cheeks.

It was then that sense kicked in once more. His body began to revolt, but it wasn't really his body, just his waking mind. His subconscious wanted more. His subconscious was in a dangerous position, threatening total take over at any time.

With his hands cupping that face Hiro pushed away. "No," he gasped. His lips were aching with the absence of the other lips. "No." He was firm this time and let go of the boy. He really was a boy. He was just sixteen. Hiro reminded him. "Tatsuha, you're only sixteen. You have plenty of others ahead of you. Not me. We can't. We should, and you know how I want to, but there are plenty of others and I'm sure that you can love one of them more-"

"You're rambling. Stop and think. No, no don't think."

"But I know that you can-"

"I can't love anyone else. Yes, you do know."

"Not, me. Please." There were the beginnings of sorrow in Hiro's voice.

"Why?"

"Because it's wrong! I don't love you! I don't. I don't think." He was losing it again. This was insane and he was going to wake up soon. He knew it. This was all just a horrible nightmare. He hadn't just kissed Tatsuha and he _certainly _wasn't in love with him. That was too random and unplanned.

"It isn't wrong. Two souls are calling to each other. Can't you see that dammit? Look at my brother and that kid. Is that so wrong? Is that so different?"

"Of course it's different. They are- they met- the circumstances-"

"See, your fumbling. You can't see why not."

"But it's forbidden!"

"Christ Hiro, be a rebel. I thought that was your attitude."

It had struck home. He was a rebel. He was a good person thought. But he could mold the world the way he wanted to. But it was wrong. His subconscious was screaming against his common sense. He could feel tears conflagrating behind his eyes. It was wrong. But only in the public's eye. He had never really cared what others had thought before. Why start now?

He choked on his tears and kissed the man he loved, then embraced him tightly.

It wasn't really an embrace. Hiroshi Nakano was clinging to that man with all his worth because he was falling off the edge of the world. He was changing.

Everything was changing for him. And the stars. The twinkling luminescent song descended on him. He was enraptured in a symphonic metamorphosis. He felt lips on his neck. He felt strong arms around his shivering body.

Then the ground fell out from under him. He gasped in fear. He really was losing it. It was all going away, falling out in front of him. Falling out around him. The tears burst forth. He was blind to the darkness. He was numb. There was nothing but sound.

Tatsuha could hear it coming from Hiro as he carried him off to his room. He could hear a sweet music. Like a thousand tiny wind chimes. He didn't know what it was, but he liked it. Maybe one day it would be a song. Shrugging he set down Hiro on the bed and covered him over. He seemed to be sleeping, but he was crying.

Completely on impulse he licked a tear from Hiro's cheek. It was salty and nothing special. With a sigh, he locked his door and climbed into the bed as well. He pulled his love close to him and kissed the top of his head.

"What about Ryuichi?" whispered Hiro.

"A crush. I can only assume I'm allowed to keep it." Hiro nodded face brushing the fabric of Tatsuha's loose T-shirt. "What about Ayaka?" Tatsuha asked.

"I feel sorry for her. She lost Yuki to the odd ways of fate, and now. Now me. No, Tatsuha, let me go. We can't do this!"

"Shh. Your talking nonsense. You're a rebel, remember?"

"Mmm, right. Rebel." He was savoring the caress of a hand down his back.

"What about the media?" Tatsuha asked.

"They're just going to have to deal with it. So what if the whole group's as queer as a three dollar bill."

"Suguru?" The younger man sounded shocked. Hiro chuckled. "Oh come on. Just look at him. Besides, he's in love with his cousin," Hiro yawned, "I found them kissing in the studio one night."

"And you say _this _is wrong."

"I take it back."

"I'm glad to hear you thinking positive."

Hiro tipped his head up another kiss. He was thinking positive. He had the star's song now. And he knew that he had it because of Tatsuha. If that wasn't a good omen, then he wouldn't know one from a stone.

"Three dollar bill. I just got that," Tatsuha mumbled sleepily.

"Idiot."

"But you love me?"

"Yes, I do."

Please alert me to grammar errors and I will fix them when I have enough collectively. I was too impatient to do more than battle with spell check. Thank you!

All types of reviews welcome. '


	2. Home and Hurting

Don't own Gravitation. Do own this fic.

New and Improved! I fixed up the fight scene so it isn't as impractical.

He brushed the last few notes out of the strings. A minor chord that danced to the listeners' ears in a sorrowful joy. There was a silence that stayed until the strings were completely stopped of all vibration.

Hiro sat with his eyes closed waiting for an audible reaction. He didn't dare look at his friends' faces. He didn't know if he would find approval or vain attempts not to laugh.

Finally he heard someone slump into a seat. It was Suguru. There was blankness in his eyes as he stared numbly at Hiro's hands as if wondering if such mortal things could produce something so- celestial. Shuichi stood before him; a smile was quirking up the corners of his mouth. "Well, well!" he said, "Aren't you Mr. Amazing?" Shuichi cupped his hand on Hiro's shoulder. "How do you expect _us_ to work up to that level?"

"You guys can do it. You've got the drive."

"What drive?" asked Suguru, all awe gone from his voice and replaced by a business like manner.

"Well, Shu's got Yuki, you've got Tohma. That kind of drive."

"Seguchi san isn't my drive!"

"He meant that you want to get better than he is," Shuichi mustered a lot of condescending into that sentence. It was rare that he got to be the one to point out the obvious. "So," he pointed at Hiro, "What's your drive?"

Hiro could only look down and try not to blush. He could hardly tell them. It wasn't even a sure thing. It was just a lucky chance that he got so inspired. He could hardly trust Tatsuha to be faithful. "Well, uh, it's kind of hard to, um, put a name to it. You know?" Hiro mumbled.

Very calmly Fujisaki, putting on his coat, stated, "I'll bet it was Ayaka chan."

"Um, sorta. You could say that," Hiro mumbled again. He didn't want to give anything away, but he could tell that his best friend knew something. Shuichi had a strange glint in his eye as he walked over to the refrigerator

"Whatever. I'm going home before it starts to rain. I'll see if I can get something to go with your piece Nakano Kun."

"OK. See you tomorrow then. Bye." Shuichi said and watched the boy walk out of the door. Hiro tried to pay no attention to the way his friend watched him as he drank from the water bottle. He was just buying time by drinking; they both knew it.

"Well, if it's going to rain, I better get going too. I don't want to miss the bus," Hiroshi said, staring to put away his guitar. He laid it down gently and wiped off the strings. He was putting away his paper full of letters that corresponded to notes when Shuichi put the water bottle down.

"So. What's eating you?" Hiro put on a surprised face and looked up.

"What do you mean?"

"Something's obviously going on. Your not telling us about it, whatever it is, and I don't think it has to do with Ayaka. Something else happened this weekend."

Hiro stood and smiled. As he walked towards the door he ruffled his friends hair. "You live in one twisted world Shu chan. See you tomorrow." He walked out and closed to door leaving Shuichi to do what he would.

Actually, Hiro was surprised that he didn't come bursting out of the room and start nagging him about this mysterious drive. Instead it was peaceful walk down an empty corridor to an empty elevator, then into the empty lobby opening to a semi busy street.

He flung his bag more securely onto his shoulder and switched his guitar case to his other hand. He had brought the acoustic and it didn't have a shoulder strap, so carrying it was a pain.

The clock above the door said about five minutes to ten, so he would be able to make the bus instead of having to try and get a taxi or walk home. With a sigh of relief he pushed open the plate glass door and stepped out into the brisk night.

The world was filled with the growl of engines and the simpering sheen of brake and headlights. Dashes of green and yellow also dotted the street as the traffic lights flashed signals to drivers.

The streetlight placed by the bus stop illuminated a group of about ten people. It seemed odd, that many people this late at night. They were all bundled against the chill and seemed completely absorbed in their own business. Maybe no one would recognize him. He could only hope.

He went and stood on the outside of the group, shifting his weight from foot to foot, fearing that he would be recognized. Shifting around probably wasn't helping much. He needed to move around though, not just to ease anxiety, but also to keep warm. He set down his guitar case and rubbed his hands together.

A drop of wintry water splashed down onto his hands. He rolled his eyes, "Great, now it's going to rain." He bent to pick his guitar back up.

"So, you play?" He grabbed the instrument and looked at the speaker. Some older man, a stranger, with a tan winter overcoat and a respectable look about him. He had a Kyoto accent. "Uh, yeah," Hiro mumbled and tried not to look the man in the face. There was no way he would know about Bad Luck, but you could never be too careful.

"The N-G label's building is right around here. You in one of their bands?" There was a malevolent curiosity to his voice. "Yeah, I'm in one of the bands."

"What one?" the spite was growing.

"Bad Luck. You've probably never heard of us."

"Oh no, you guys were all over the news last week. You're lead singer being a gay and all. Pretty sick. I'm surprised you haven't quit. Then again, I'm surprised the news about your little Kyoto incident hasn't gotten out. Whatever did happen at the Ryuganji temple?"

Heartbeats came like the raindrops. Fast and plunging. Fear dug into Hiro's stomach and shimmered out his eyes. No one was supposed to know. Nothing had happened so it was irrelevant. It was only one night.

The glimmer of hate in the man's eyes brightened. "I'm dead on aren't I? Hey boys! This is the one." Three other men dressed like him, but younger came over.

"You're wrong. You've got the wrong guy. Nothing happened in Kyoto. Nothing." Hiro began to back up. People were looking at him and the four men. No one moved. "Yeah, that's the guy. We were shown a picture. That's him."

"What are you waiting for then?" The leader, the man that had approached him, asked, "Get on with it!" Images of the aftermath of Shuichi's attack flashed through his head. No. This wasn't going to happen to him. They were backing him up though, out of the light, away from the street and in the opposite direction of home.

The leader was explaining things to the people at the bus stop now. Saying something about a criminal and being the police and everything was being taken care of. Then he was out of sight. All that Hiro could see was the damp, dark, shining walls of a narrow alleyway and the looming silhouettes of the three men.

His guitar case bumped up against a wall. He dropped it. It would only get in the way now. He had to be ready for what was coming.

"So, you're a heartbreaking homo? It's a pity there's scum like you on this earth," one of the three said throwing a fist into Hiro's stomach. He doubled over and coughed. They laughed.

Another of the men reached out and took him by the collar of his coat. Hiro could only imagine the look of murder in his eyes. Desperately he clutched at the man's large hand and tried to pull it off, away, he tried to get free.

A blow took him across the face, another to the stomach, then face again. He dropped back down to the concrete. It bit into his hands and knees as he landed. He tasted blood in his mouth. Running his tongue over his teeth, he found them all still intact. He felt a warm trickle coming from his nose as well.

Staggering to get back up and fight back, a shower of kicks rained upon him, landing all over, head, chest, legs. Instead of standing, he curled up and tried to get as small as possible. He would be harder to hit that way.

They were saying things to him. He could barely hear, but he knew that they were making accusations. "It was only one night. Nothing happened. It's meaningless!" he murmured. They let off and listened to his pathetic mumbles then laughed. "It meant nothing. Nothing."

He listened to himself. No, he was lying. That wasn't meaningless. A warmth surged through him, shutting off the pain and rain. There was a dark silk between his fingers. There was a strong arm around his shoulders. There was something in his heart that shouted at him that he was wrong, he was a liar.

"Christ Hiro, be a rebel. I thought that was your attitude." The words of that night echoed in his mind. They began to twine with the feelings. Shaking, he rose. The men laughed and got ready to hit and kick again.

Something else had taken over Hiro. He was running on instinct, rational thought had taken to the back seat. "Go away," he whispered, bending to pick up his guitar, and missing blows that ended up on the wall. "Go away," he said standing again. Something vicious was in his eyes. It froze the men for a second. That was long enough though. He swung out the hard case of the guitar and battered them all aside. Then Hiro ran.

There was no one at the bus stop now. He had missed the bus. He would have to get home on foot. It wasn't that bad. Four blocks. He could make it.

"Hey! Get back here! We weren't finished with our meeting!" one of the men yelled running after him.

No, he didn't want to be chased. _Go away _he thought and began to run again. Maybe the man would get tire and go away. He didn't dare look back.

Four, he had made it through the first stretch of the race. The man was still back there, he didn't have his friends with him. Three, cars flashed by, wind and rain stung his eyes, but he kept going. Two, pain was seeping into his movement. Unused muscles began to sing pain. One, he could see his apartment building now. It almost shone with relief. Once he was there, he was safe.

Climbing the stairs, legs, chest, stomach, head all screaming hurt, he fumbled in his pocket for a key. The man was still behind him, only a few seconds behind him! Cold jagged metal met his fingers. The key was transferred to the lock, falling in purely by good chance. The knob was turned, the door was opened, he was in, then the door was closed, key ripped out as it shut. Not even a second later, his pursuer hit the door shouting. Hiro didn't hear, he was too busy going to the elevator; there was no way he was making it up five flights of stairs.

Doors rattled open and he stumbled in pressing the button as he went. He set his guitar down, then leaned against the cool wall. It felt soothing. He slid down it, legs not wanting to hold him anymore.

He dragged the back of his hand under his nose, then examined the blood. His blood. It seemed stupid to have blood on his hand just because he had kissed another man. Turning over his hand, he saw the raw scrapes from the pavement. Cringing, he picked out bits of gravel.

The clattered open again. He stood, slowly, almost missing his chance to get out. Sensing a person between them, the doors opened again and patiently waited for him to clear out.

Hiro searched his pocket for the other key. The one that would admit him to his own home. There, he found it. Leaning on a wall for support, he fumbled to get it into the narrow slit. It fit and was turned with a satisfying click. He was in.

Battling against exhaustion, and stinging, aching, searing pains, he tried to get the key out. No use. It wasn't going to let go. Not even caring, he shut the door, tossed down his bag and guitar, then headed for his bedroom.

Sleep, he needed sleep _right_ _now. _Peeling off his soaked coat, he staggered into his room. The bed looked soft and warm and ridiculously inviting. He smiled, stepped forward, and let himself fall. He was passed out even before he felt the soft bed embrace him.

The first thing he felt was the warmth of the blankets and the rough wool on his skin. Then he felt the stinging in his palms from where he had fallen. Slowly then, the pain from all the bruises seeped in, and then came the hurt from the kicks to his stomach.

Hiro opened his eye; the one that had swollen almost shut. Bare winter sunlight filtered in through closed curtains and filled the room with a half-light. He looked around, neck sore. In a chair in the corner sat Tatsuha. He smiled and waved as Hiro's gaze fell to him.

"So," the younger man stood up and walked to the bedside, "What the hell happened to you?"

"Beat up."

"No shit. By who? I'll damn their souls to hell." There was no wit in his tone. Hiro smiled and tried to sit up- bad idea. He winced and lay back down. "I don't know who it was. Just three guys that some how found out that we- were together last weekend." Tatsuha frowned. "How'd they know?"

"That's what I want to know."

The phone rang. Hiro looked at Tatsuha expectantly. When he didn't move Hiro asked, "Would you get it?"

The monk walked out of the room and answered the phone, "Hello, Hiroshi Nakano's residence." There was a brief silence and then he walked back in with the phone. His thumb was over the mouthpiece. "It's Shuichi. Have fun explaining to him why _I'm _here."

"Hey Shu," Hiro said trying not to sound exhausted and pained.

"Hiro, thank god! You're not dead. They say that you haven't even tried to come out of the apartment."

"They?"

"Yeah, the people on TV. From the news. Have you watched the news?"

"No, I was exhausted when I got home. I just woke up."

"Don't lie. I know that you got beat up. What's this about you being with some dude last weekend."

"How the hell did they find out!?"

"So it's true?"

"No- yes. I don't know. Tatsuha turn on the TV."

"Why is _he _there?"

"Long story."

"I'm all ears." Hiro sighed. He couldn't win. Not today, not last night.

"Listen," he said finally, "can you just come over? Just disguise yourself. You have a key right? Maybe climb up the fire escape? Whatever. I'll have it all figured out by the time you're here."

"We're out front."

"What!?"

"See Yuki!" he heard Shuichi say mouth away from the mouthpiece, "I told you he'd want us to come over."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't rub it in. You wouldn't be here if it weren't for-"

"Your crazy driving. You could have killed us!"

"Oh right, like Japan really needs another bad pop-" Hiro didn't listen anymore. He yelled into the phone to try and get his friend's attention.

"Yeah?"

"Are you coming up?"

"Just a sec. Bye." Rolling his eyes he hung up, "That is one weird kid."

The TV was on. It was just like the day that Yuki had come back and Shuichi was in his house. They were out as a couple and everything was all right. Maybe it would be that way for Hiro and Tatsuha. Judging by the happenings of the previous night it didn't look like such a happy outcome.

The reporter was explaining the situation. The street looked full of more angry people. At the bottom of the screen scrolled a brief description of the "breaking news". Hiroshi Nakano gay? Strange hazing last night? Legions of devastated fans stand vigil outside his apartment.

Hiro groaned and tried to sit up again. He gasped as spasms of hurt erupted from his chest. Popping the top on a can of beer Tatsuha mentioned, "Oh yeah. I think you have some broken ribs. I put some bandages on."

"Thanks for giving me a little warning." Tatsuha played two year old and stuck out his tongue. Hiro finally managed a sitting position.

There was a knocking on the window. Tatsuha flung open the curtains to the grinning face of Shuichi. He stroked his chin in contemplation and made to close the curtain. Yuki stepped forward, almost knocking the pink haired boy off the fire escape, and banged on the window. Tatsuha opened it.

Yuki stepped in. "What the hell are _you _doing here?"

"I'm Nakano san's forbidden love. Nice to meet you."

"YOU!?" Shuichi sputtered, clambering in the window. From the bed Hiro groaned. Tatsuha looked over his shoulder. "What?" he asked, "They'd find out eventually."

Shuichi was still in a stupor. "HIM?!" He marched over to his friend. "_HIM?!_" Hiro covered his face and groaned. "It was one night! It means nothing."

"Well, I'm offended there lover boy."

"No, I didn't mean it. I don't know what I mean!"

"Why him," bawled Shuichi, "He's a slut!"

"Watch it little dude," Tatsuha hissed.

"Piss off monk boy! You can't hurt me or your brother will have you ass!"

"You better listen to the boy brother dear," Yuki chuckled and sat down in the corner seat where Tatsuha had been when Hiro woke.

"Listen hear you little pink haired rat-"

"Hey!" Hiro shouted, "Can we all just shut up?" The room fell silent but for the babble on the TV. Everyone looked at Hiro. The buzzer went off on the intercom. In stereo they heard the reporter on television and over the intercom. "Nakano kun? Nakano kun, can we please get a statement from you? Nakano kun?"

"What do we do?" Hiro asked quietly as if afraid the intercom might hear them all even though voices couldn't be heard unless the speak button was pressed. "Better come up with a damn good statement and fast," Yuki said, snatching away his brother's beer and taking a swig. Hiro glowered. "I hate pheromones."

"Nakano kun?" the press begged.

"What do you want?!" Shuichi was at the intercom. "Go away you drama hungry scumbags!"

"Is that Shindou kun?" the buzzer asked. Everyone glared at Shuichi. He let go of the button. "Aww shit."

Same thing about that sucky syntax of mine. Alert me to the fact. Thank you silverone for pointing that error out. Yes typos do suck. I fixed it though. Arigato to all that have read this so far!


	3. Hounded

Don't own Gravitation, do own this fic. Once again, minor language warning. Tell me if I should raise the rating.

"We believe that Shindou Kun, the lead singer of the group Bad Luck, whose guitarist is in question of being gay, is in the apartment as well. Excuse me, Miss!" The reporter ran over to a young girl, maybe sixteen, who looked positively stricken.

"Miss, can you tell us why you're here protesting?" he asked. Hiro cocked his head at the TV, "Since when is this a protest?" His friends shushed him as the girl began to speak.

"Hiroshi san is the hot one of the group. He's the one that all the girls are madly in love with. We feel betrayed! The band already has a gay member that's taken away another one of our heartthrobs. Wasn't _that_ publicity stunt enough? Isn't this over doing it?"

They ignored the reporter's further questions. Looks of rage were playing across Shuichi and Yuki's faces. "A stunt! That wasn't some stunt for record sales. That was fate god damn it!" Shuichi yelled at the TV to no avail.

"This isn't a stunt either, is it Nakano san?" Yuki asked, eyes closed. Hiro shook his head. "No, this was just a quiet midnight in a temple in Kyoto. I don't even know how it got out!"

"Did anything happen that may have been overheard?" Shuichi asked, sitting back down next to Yuki and grabbing the communal beer. "Nothing happened. I just went to see Ayaka and ended up with Tatsuha instead. I was really confused that night. I was still pissed with myself for screwing things up for you and Yuki san and all that. Nothing happened. We kissed, but nothing further," Hiroshi stated with a bit of a blush.

"Wait, my brother didn't, ya know?" Hiro shook his head and Yuki laughed. "Way to show some restraint you player!"

"Shut up. Hiro's not just some chick with a pretty face. He was having a hard time and I did what I thought appropriate," Tatsuha argued.

"So then," Shuichi said, looked between Hiro and Tatsuha, "can't we just write this off as an eventless one night stand?"

"No," Yuki said grabbing back the beer, "because Tatsuha's here now. How do we explain that?"

"I just came here to see an old, uh, friend," Tatsuha said.

"More like a shag mate," Eiri stated slyly raising an eyebrow to his brother who returned the look with one made from pure glacial ice.

"If you came here to see a friend then how the hell did you get into my house?" Hiro asked a little nervous.

"That's easy. I knew that you lived here so when I said goodbye to my friend, shut up Eiri," he cut his brother off, "I came down here. I knocked, no one answered. I rang the bell, nobody answered, so finally I just tried the door. It was unlocked. Bad idea on your part Hiro."

"Well, I don't suppose if you'd just gotten the crap kicked out of you that you'd remember to locked the door either."

"Yeah! Point for Hiro; that makes the score one to none," Shuichi broadcasted. As he received more glares from the group he blushed and grabbed the beer again.

"Now," Hiro started, looking to his friend and Yuki, "How do we explain you guys?"

"I'm easy! I came to check in on my best friend," Shuichi exclaimed with a hiccough. Yuki took the beer away. "As for me," he said after a swig, "We all know he can't go anywhere without me. But that still doesn't solve why Tatsuha is here. We can just boot him back to his "friends" and call you guys an anomaly."

"But that isn't true!" Tatsuha said sitting down on the bed next to Hiro, who tried to move away and relieve the awkwardness. It didn't work. Instead, Tatsuha took his hands and looked into his chestnut eyes. "I don't know if I mean anything to you, but you aren't just some bimbo to me. I felt something when I was with you. I mean, the kiss, it was different that any other kiss I've had, and it wasn't because you're a guy, it was something else.

"And I heard something too. I don't know if it was just in my head or what, but it sounded like something pretty far away and pretty significant. I sounded like a sign or something. It sounded like it was meant to be.

"Remember, too, that you don't care what they think. You're a rebel Hiroshi. We're rebels. They're rebels. That other guy is a rebel. Make a statement. Come on. Make a move, a wave. Maybe we're in a position to change the world right now."

"Or maybe," Hiro's eyes shimmered with a deep regret, "we're in a position to damn ourselves and ruin_ our _world."

"What other guy?" Shuichi asked. Hiro looked away from Tatsuha, one hand still holding on, and said plainly, "Fujisaki."

"What about him?" Yuki asked handing the beer to Tatsuha who chucked the can at his brother when he found it empty. He went to get another one. Drawing his hand back to his lap Hiro said, "Well, I don't know what the story is, but I think that Suguru is in love with Tohma."

Yuki laughed. It was a real laugh, but it sounded ethereal. "Ha! That's great. Nothing says lovin' like marryin' a cousin. Both guys at that!" Shuichi and Hiro laughed nervously and Yuki wiped tears from his eyes because he was laughing so hard.

"Yuki!" Shuichi whined clinging to the blonde man's arm, "If you don't stop, your going to suffocate." Yuki waved Shuichi off and took a few deep breaths and then sighed.

"Well, if you suspect something, than maybe we should call him." As if on cue, the phone rang. It was sitting beside Hiro on the bed so he got it easily and regarded the caller ID. "It's the studio," he pressed talk, "Hello, Nakano here."

The room went silent and K's voice filled the room over the phone. Hiro got the earpiece away from his head just in time. "What the hell is this Nakano? They'd better be talking about some other Hiroshi."

"No K san. I'm sorry." The line was quiet, and the quieter voice of Sakano came on. "What he means to say is, we heard that you were hazed. Are you all right? What injuries do you have?"

"Lots of bruised, cuts, skinned palms, and possible broken ribs."

"Uh huh. Have you seen a doctor?"

"Nope, can't get out of my house."

"Uh huh. Do you know where the information leaked from?"

"Nope, no clue."

"Are you watching the news?"

"Sort of."

"Well watch. It seems the person who outed you is coming on in five minutes."

"No way!"

"Yes, and do you know by any chance where Shuichi is?"

"Yeah he's right here. You want to talk to him."

"No, I think I'll go pass out now."

"OK, bye."

"Good bye Hiroshi." He pressed the talk button. Everyone was looking at him expectantly. "That was Sakano, he sounded sedated, and he said that the person who outed me is going to be on the news in a few minutes."

All eyes in the room snapped to the television. Sure enough, they were talking about "the first to know" coming on via satellite from a station in Kyoto. A gnawing anxiety took hold of Hiro's stomach and he felt bile burning the back of his throat. He had an inkling of just who it was that was coming on via satellite.

"Alright Japan, are you ready to meet the source of information?" The crowd behind the reporter roared. "Sick," remarked Tatsuha handing the beer to Hiro and noting how the older boy's hands were shaking, "they're playing this up like some sporting event."

The reported touched his earpiece and listen for the signal to start speaking. "Hello?" he inquired as the screen split in half. "Miss Usami, are you there?" Hiro stopped breathing and set the beer aside. He heard it rattle as his trembling hand set it on the bedside table.

The other half of the screen flickered onto an image of a Kyoto beauty with silky, long, black hair, and elegantly long face, and large dark eyes that seemed to flicker with some deep rooted hatred.

"This," words seemed to slow. The world was stopping all around him. His entire body was trembling with, fear, rage, and the possibility that it could be someone else. "is Miss Ayaka Usami."

Hiro burst from the bed, despite all his aches and pains, and ran to the bathroom. He was sick. He felt the vomit rising in the back of his throat, burning with all the nothing that he had eaten in that past few hours, and bitter with the bit of beer that he had swallowed so recently.

He slammed into the toilet, getting the lid up just in time. His eyes watered as he coughed up a yellow bile that sunk in the water of the toilet. He groaned and a little more came up.

When he was finished he realized that someone was rubbing his back. He felt someone holding his hair back. "Let's not call this the first date, eh?" Tatsuha joked and ripped off a bit of toilet paper for Hiro to wipe his mouth. Hiro smiled and dabbed at his mouth trying to ignore the foul taste that was in it, then closed the porcelain lid and flushed.

"Sorry about that. Nervous reaction or something." Tatsuha shrugged and stood, offering Hiro a hand up. He accepted graciously, know that his legs wouldn't support him alone. With the monk for support Hiro wobbled to a chair that had been brought to his room.

Shuichi was waiting with a bag of crackers and small glass of water. As soon as Hiro was seated he accepted the water and took little sips. He didn't want to over do it and end up throwing up again.

"What did I miss?" he asked. Yuki shrugged, "Not much. She's just whining that this is the second guy she lost to another guy. Little brat just had to bring me into it. I figured she was over it. Mika said that she was happy for me being with the little punk." Shuichi smiled and sat down again, snuggling up to Yuki, who didn't protest, but instead put his arm around the boy's shoulders.

"I was dating Nakano san, and last weekend I heard him in my family's temple. It was the morning and my window over looked out little courtyard. I saw him there with Tatsuha Uesugi," Ayaka stated sounding flinty and cruel.

"Well, there goes my career with the family. Dad's gonna flip his shit," Tatsuha mumbled from his place on the floor, cross-legged next to Hiro.

Ayaka continued, "Tatsuha was at our temple on business. He _was _considered a family friend from another temple. He is the brother to Eiri Yuki, whom I lost to Shuichi Shindou. When I saw Nakano san hug Uesugi, I knew that something was strange. It got stranger still, when Nakano san and Uesugi san kissed. Nakano then turned and began to leave instead of coming to see me as I had assumed he had."

"That's tragic Miss Usami. How long had you been with Nakano san?"

"Almost six months. Yesterday would have made it official. When I didn't receive a call from Nakano san, I decided I needed to make what I saw public."

"She- she won't even say my first name," Hiro said in a sad shock.

"Get over her Hiroshi. She's high maintenance."

"She always seemed like such a nice girl to me," he said, voice loaded with remorse. "Hey," Tatsuha placed his hand on Hiroshi's knee, "paybacks a bitch and her name's Ayaka Usami." The reporter continued with the pointless questions. Hiro stared in horror as the girl that he thought he loved continued to trash his life.

Numbly, Hiro sought for Tatsuha's hand. When he found it on his knee, he latched on. Tatsuha was his only anchor to the real world now. Tatsuha had given him that song. Ayaka had never done that. He realized that Miss Usami had never given him quite the feeling that he got from Tatsuha, and he didn't even know the boy that well.

He tore his eyes from the television screen and blocked out the now grating voice from his ears. He looked down to Tatsuha, where their hands were clasped on his knee. This was what he wanted. A steady, strong hand to have when he needed it. He reached out to that darkly silken hair. He wanted this beauty at his disposal.

Tatsuha looked up surprised from the sudden touch to his hair. His eyes became entangled with Hiro's misted, confused ones. They forgot about the others in the room in that moment. The boy stood and bent over his love for a reassuring kiss. He recognized that it was now his responsibility to be loyal to this older, broken, boy, even if that meant giving up the pleasure of promiscuity.

They heard Shuichi sniffle. "Our own little soap opera, live," Chuckled Yuki as the two blushed and parted. Tatsuha resumed his cross-legged position and Hiro turned back to the TV.

"Why can't we be like them?" Shuichi asked. Yuki looked at him and smiled. "What, you want me to be a slutty monk and you to be the blushing bride?"

"Yeah, it's cute."

"Newsflash Shu," Hiro said taking no offense from the comment, "You're already the blushing bride." Shuichi folded his arms and stuck out his tongue.

"Well, thank you Miss Usami," the reporter said with a smile. Ayaka smiled back even though she knew that they couldn't see each other. "Anything to make his life miserable," she said cutely. Her side of the screen went dead.

"Did you guys hear that?" Hiro asked shocked at what he thought he had just heard. "I told you she was evil!" Shuichi said and threw a pillow at the TV. Hiro laughed a little, but couldn't hide his remorse at her bitterness.

"Hey, I'm not just your rebound am I?" Tatsuha asked and clicked the television off. He'd had enough. Hiro shook his head, "No. You're not a rebound, but I will admit that I am a little sad. I thought she was such a nice girl."

"I didn't. I thought she was evil right from the start!" Shuichi said, proud of the fact the he was proved right for once.

The phone rang. Everyone either jumped or winced. Shuichi, closest to the phone picked it up. "Hiro," he said, suddenly very grave, "it's your mother."

"Great. What else can go wrong today?" He grabbed the phone. "Hello, Mother." A small voice was heard on the other end, but all words were inaudible and muffled. "I'm sorry Mom, I didn't even-" He was cut off. "I'm sorry, I can't-" Cut off. "What? What do you mean? Mother?" He hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed. Then, putting his hands behind his head, he leaned back and laughed.

It was a sound that could hardly be called "joyful" or relate in any way to happy words. Instead it was a sound that was of utter despondency. It was a miserable noise, and brought the knowledge of something awful to everyone in the room.

When he had finished he relayed the information to his friends. "She said that she couldn't believe that she had to find out about her son's sexuality on TV. She says that she's embarrassed that I'm one of the queer. She thought-" he choked on his words. "She thought that she raised me right. She thought that I was normal. She told me not to ever think of her house as home again."

"Hiro," Shuichi said, unable to conjure words of comfort.

"Nah. It's ok. She and I never wanted the same thing. I guess I'm just another screw up child. Heh. See if I let her have any of my money when I'm a rich old bastard."

"Hey!" Yuki interjected the self-piteous rant, "I know what it's like to have your parents hate you. Don't let it dig too deep. At least not now. We need to think up something for you to feed the press because their back at the buzzer."

"AGH!" Hiroshi was at his wits end and it was really showing, "Why won't they just leave me alone?"

"Because," Yuki was in control, "they're lifeless and they thrive off the drama and misfortune of others. They don't have a heart and they won't stop until they have something to flaunt in the worlds face. You either give them what they want or suffer the rumors and accusations. Got it?"

He bit his lip, but nodded. Taking a deep breath and trying to temporarily suppress all the awful things falling down into his life, he attempted to make explanatory words form in his mind.

After a moment, he stood up. The buzzer was going off. The voice of the reporter was filling the house. "I'm coming," he said as he took surprisingly steady steps toward the front door. No one moved. All eyes were on him.

"This is Nakano," he said, leaning against the wall. No one breathed.

"Nakano. Is what Miss Usami said true?"

"Yes. It is true-"

"So you are-"

"Shut up and listen," he waited to see if the command set, "Yes. I am gay. No this is not a publicity stunt, and neither was Shuichi and Yuki san. Fate has funny ways in the world and seems to like to twist its strings around us in particular, but there isn't anything wrong with that. I am who I am, and I will continue to be that way. If all of you out there want me to apologize for being myself, I'd say you're out of luck.

"And speaking of luck, I guess I know why the band's called Bad Luck. Because we're always in the spotlight and we can't even have a life without someone selling us out for a little money or chance to see us writhe. Or maybe it's because we always have people like you breathing down our backs sucking up every detail you can.

"You're heartless. You know that. Everyone listening should be ashamed. Is your life so boring that you need to feed off of my trauma to get a rise? I hope not. I'm glad if you like my music, but my life is none of your business. So what, I got a boyfriend. Get over it. So what, it's a guy. Am I not allowed to love? What kind of world is this that the public gets to dictate who I can and can't be in love with?

"How many of you people out there think that you're nice? Think hard and then think about how, by you watching this you're making news stations ratings go through the roof and are giving them more money to torment people like me. Just because I can play an instrument well, and I was lucky enough to be found with my best friend I suddenly become fodder for the world's amusement. I guess when we signed that contract; we also signed away our personal lives.

"What if that was true for everyone? How would you feel if every move you made was broadcasted to millions of people? How would you feel if you were beat up, just because you loved somebody? Would you be able to live if you had to watch everything you said and did because you might slip up and seem human?

"Here's your real newsflash folks, I'm human, just like every one of you. I don't get a say in what _you _do or don't do, so why should you get to say so for _me_?"

Thank you to XTsukimiOdangoX for your criticism and reminding me just how wordy I am. It hit home and I'm a little discouraged, but for a good reason. My favorite teacher tolm me the same thing, "Rayne, Omit Needless Words." Thanks for the reminder, even if it tweaked me a bit. I'm a weeny anyway winks

Oh, and I know the whole thing seems a little impractical. It was just a story written for a dear friend for a bit of friendly revenge on someone.


	4. Temporary State

Only silence met his words. All he could do was let go of the speak button and walk back to his chair. His weakness returned to him, as did his pain. He had exerted all of his strength on that speech. He hoped that it would accomplish something.

Looking up, he saw that the television was on. The reporter looked as if he had just been struck a physical blow and the crowd was limp. Suddenly, he heard clapping. Someone was clapping out there on the street. The camera zoomed in on a blonde man in a fur-collared coat. Beside him was a younger raven-haired boy who looked very similar to the man clapping. Suddenly, he came out of his stupor and began clapping as well. Both let out little whoops of joy as more of the crowd came alive.

Seemingly one by one, the massive swarm began to applaud. The camera, still focused on Suguru and Tohma caught their more than cousinly kiss and began to pan back. Hiro stared numbly. The applause was deafening and steady: like a popping rain.

It infected the very room he sat in. Yuki first. He saw it from the corner of his eye. Then Shuichi, then Tatsuha. "My boyfriend's a friggin' genius!" He said smiling and shouting because of the din of applause exploding from the TV, then bent down to deliver a brief, rough, joyful kiss.

"Ha ha ha! See Hiro! I always told you that you were the smartest of all of us," Shuichi said, a smile radiating from his voice. Hiro laughed. A good, true, careless laugh that chased away that bad. "And I always told you that that meant nothing special," he responded with a smile.

A hand clamped onto his shoulder. He looked up to see a smiling Yuki. "Good job," he said, voice overflowing with approval, "You're good enough for my little brother, but then again, that isn't saying much either." He punched Tatsuha's arm playfully then, "Come on. Let's go home Shuichi," and kissed the top of the boy's head and slid his arm around his waist.

Shuichi looked at Hiroshi. "Hey Hiro," he said and put on a serious face. He extended his arm and gave the thumbs up with a wink and classic Shu chan smile. Then, the pair walked out to wade through the dissipating throng outside.

"Hey." Hiro looked at his boyfriend. His boyfriend. The thought was a little strange in his head, but he blamed it on society. Tatsuha cupped Hiro's chin in his hand and tilted it up, then leaned down for a kiss. Each felt a thrill of ecstasy run through them, and Hiro reached his arms up behind the other boy's neck, and pulled himself to a stand.

Tatsuha broke the kiss and framed the older boy's face in his hands. Tears were glimmering in Hiro's eyes. Despite the joyful moment, he had still been disowned by his family and beat up the previous night. He had still gone through all the stress of a press attack, and the loss of a girlfriend. Giving a little sob, he looked down and was pulled into a strong embrace. Clutching his anchor to the world he cried and choked out, "You better make this relationship worth the hell we went through to get the right to have it, Tatsuha Uesugi."

"Don't worry about that," he laughed and tucked Hiro's head under his chin. Hiroshi pulled back, sniffed, and went to sit on the bed, turning the television off as he went. He dried his eyes with his sleeve and looked around his room. Everything seemed normal, unchanged. He knew that material things could only change their appearances, but not on their own. Looking upon himself, he realized that things of flesh and blood could change their appearance too, but also more than that. They could change their soul.

A knock on the door startled him out of his reverie. With a little moan he asked, "What now?" He was loath to leave his comfy bed, but the door beckoned, or at least the knock did. He stood with a grunt and latched on to Tatsuha's secure arm to regain his balance. Then he answered the door.

"Hello Nakano san," Tohma said with a mischievous grin on his face. Suguru peaked out from behind him with a grin full of a lesser degree of evil. "Hello Seguchi san, Fujisaki san. How did you get in the building?"

"Eiri and Shindou let us in as they were leaving. It was timed quite well." Hiro nodded and opened the door wider, inviting them in. They came in, hands linked. He couldn't help but stare. Even if he was being a hypocrite, he couldn't help but find it strange.

Suguru looked from their hands to Hiro's face. "I'm sorry, does this bother you?" They let go. "No, no, sorry. It's just. Aren't you married Seguchi san?" He ripped his eyes upward to their faces. "Marriage is," Tohma sighed, "a temporary state. Mika has always been very understanding with me." Hiro nodded still a little confused, but he decided to let it go.

"We came to congratulate you," Fujisaki said, filling the silence.

"Yes, it seems you've won your first personal battle with the press. It only took two hours and one beating." He remembered his swollen eye and put a hand to it. "We should probably put something on that," Tatsuha said coming into the room and walking to the freezer, trying to figure out how to act around the cousins.

"Yes, you want to look nice for your concert next week," Tohma said, pulling off his gloves, "and for the press conference N-G is holding in tomorrow."

"What?"

"Yes. Don't think we didn't notice the cameras on us today in the crowd. Everyone is going to know who that was, and if we're lucky the uproar over that will hold off until tomorrow," Suguru stated sounding official. Hiro gestured for them to sit down on the couch; they accepted.

"Does Shuichi know?"

"Sakano is leaving a message at Eiri's house as we speak. If you two could be in the conference room at nine tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I think we can," Hiro said. Tatsuha gave him an ice pack and nodded, "Certainly."

"Ahh, Tatsuha, nice to see you again brother in law. It seems that we're all related in some way or another."

"Yeah, genealogy is _fun_," Tatsuha tried not to sound sarcastic. Tohma laughed at the failure. "Well, we should really be off to our own homes so that the press can't corner us, Suguru, you leave first. I'll follow."

Fujisaki leaned over and kissed his cousin/lover's cheek and stood. "I hope you feel better Hiro. Oh! Also here," he reached into his coat pocket, "this is for you. The synth part for that song. I hope it measures up to your standards." Hiro accepted the tape a looked at it for a bit before saying that he was sure that it would be fantastic. Fujisaki then left.

After a second Tohma asked, "I hate to be a bother, but can I have a glass of water?"

"Sure, hold on," Hiro said automatically and made to get up. Tatsuha's hand on his shoulder stopped him from hurting himself. He sat back again as the younger boy went to get the water.

Seguchi leaned forward, elbows on knees. "I just wanted to say that I think you did a _fantastic _job today. I know that it couldn't have possibly been easy, and I'll bet that things suck in your life right now, but you did an astounding thing and most likely have helped to spur along a revolution." His tone carried none of the usual feigned civility and was instead sincere and his voice that of someone looking up to his hero.

Hiro blushed and stumbled over his words. "Thanks I- I just went on instinct you know. I wasn't thinking and I'm sure I'm going to regret it."

"No, you won't. I wish sometimes I had blind instinct like you. I always think things through too much and am too careful. Maybe someday I'll get guts enough to be a little reckless."

"Don't go overboard with it. I wish I were more careful."

"All things will develop in time. Ahh, thank you," the blonde man stood to accept the glass of water. When he was finished he handed the glass back. "I should get going, I suspect that the media is still crawling around here like ants. I'd rather not get caught." He put a pair of chic sunglasses on and bid them fare well.

When he was well down the hall Hiro remarked, "What I need now is a hot bath and then some lunch."

"I can help with that bath," Tatsuha offered. Hiro blushed, and said nothing.

Eight o' clock, crisp and linen white, with a thin coating of snow. Various footsteps, denoting various strides, pocked the snow on the sidewalks. Very few were outside because of the cold, so very few were on the bus.

It was a serene, and disguised, trip to the stop near the studio. Hiro and Tatsuha were quiet in their seat, both seemingly in their own worlds. Hiro gazed at the world of white outside the window, and Tatsuha looked directly ahead, appearing to stare one hundred feet in a ten-foot room. Two hands were clasped on the cool pleather of the bus seat.

Hydraulics whirred as the bus slowed and stopped with a little forward pull. Letting go, the pair stood and walked to the exit, sunglasses and winter hats securely. Tohma had called that morning and instructed them to enter through the back because the press would start swarming hours before the actual conference was held.

So they went, through a lightly dusted parking lot, where the wind had swirled the snow into curving, sweeping patterns. Patterns that soon received the mass-produced boot imprint pattern stamped down in. But, such delicacies of nature always seemed to get discarded; especially when a human mind was so complex, and constantly running over its boundaries with hectic thoughts.

The heavy back door opened with the _shcuck_ of weatherproofing and wheeze of old metal. The studio seemed deviously empty, but it was still early in the workday. They were an hour early, but Tohma wanted to prepare and go over what to say and what not to say. He would be waiting in his office.

The elevator door opened with a welcoming chirp, and they stepped in, pressed a button, and the dizziness of sudden rising washed over them. It was brief, but a hint of it lingered in their ears.

The doors reopened with the same cheer, and they faced the hall that ran to a window at the end. It too, was abandoned. Taking a left at a smaller hall, branching off from the main, they faced the double doors to the President's office. They knocked before entering.

"Come in," said Tohma from inside. He peered out over a newspaper as they entered. "You've made quite the attack upon society, Nakano san," he said, laying the paper down and turning it.

"Singer, Hiroshi Nakano, of Bad Luck, told the world to dig deep, yesterday. "I'm human…. I don't get a say in what _you _do or don't do, so why should you get to say so for _me_?" he said to reporters from Channel 8 News via intercom," Tohma quoted. "The world was really quite shocked at your blatant opposition to the norm of the famous ones being the presses' favorite food."

Hiro took off his sunglasses and sat down; he was still tired. "Yeah, I guess I'm a little pig headed." Tatsuha stood behind him.

"Well, there was no harm done. Sales dipped, but-"

"But now they know he's the smart one," Shuichi stood in the door way with a smile. Hiro smiled back and waved, then pulled the paper closer to him to read the article. Tohma went to greet Shindou and Yuki.

The article was minced with quotes from gay rights activists, politicians, and even churches. Overall, it stated that things were beginning to move on the issue, and it was all attributed to him. Well, let it be, just so long as he could be happy and in peace. He knew that that wasn't possible- yet.

"Where's Suguru?" Shuichi asked, looking around the room, after flopping into a chair. "He'll be along shortly," Tohma said retaking his seat. Yuki stood to Shuichi's right. "I wanted you to be here early to prepare. There will be cameras, photographers, and a lot of questions. I would suggest that you not dabble in politics or religion, and take no opinion on the subjects if they are brought up. I don't want to get tied in a legal battle over an offensive statement. Remember, you're _all _my liabilities," the menacing blonde said, eyes narrow, hands clasped before him.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Right, so other than that we can say whatever we want?" Shuichi asked. He obviously had something to say. "I would only respond to the questions asked instead of trying to answer them all before they are asked." The boy slumped. Obviously he had something heroic worked up.

"What about censors?" Tatsuha asked. Tohma sighed, knowing the Uesugi brothers love for all that was profane. "Try to keep it PG. Both of you." Eiri raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, he knew about being on TV and being oppressed by the press.

Suguru entered. "Sorry I'm late. I got recognized." he dusted off his jacket and walked further into the room.

"That's alright, I've already told you everything," Tohma smiled and stood. Fujisaki nodded and looked at the men in the office. Each one had determination on his face. Fear was sprinkled in lightly, as was pain.

"Are there any more questions?" When no one piped up, Tohma began to walk to the door, asking for them to follow. The elevator back down was not as spacious as the ride up, but it wasn't unpleasant. Only uncomfortably silent, as if each of them was about to face final judgment. Maybe, in a way, they were. Each was admitting a very large part of himself today, and that made it official. All together, official.

"We have a make up crew ready. I suggest letting them do the basics so that you don't look blanched out," the keyboardist said as they headed down a hall on he sixth floor. He opened the door to a room, obviously meant to be a dressing room, which no one had really known existed.

Tohma had been made up already, perhaps he had even applied it himself, so he gestured the others in. Hiro resisted, "I'd rather look like I am instead of covering it up."

"You'll look dreadful," Tohma insisted.

"I feel dreadful. Why not look it?" The older man sighed and put his hands up in surrender. Hiro watched as basic powders and what not were applied to his friends. The room began to haze with the stuff, and he had to excuse himself.

He was only just outside, when Shuichi came out. He looked over tanned under the fluorescent lights, but the cameras would erase that effect. "So," he leaned against the wall, "how are you?"

"I'm fine. Sleepy and all, but it's early for me."

"Oh yeah, eight thirty early. That's because K and Sakano trust _you_," Shuichi laughed a little and looked at his best friend. He couldn't help his eyes from wandering to the bruise on his friend eye. It was a crushed grape color, but the swelling had gone down considerably.

A twinge of anger bubbled inside Shuichi as he looked at what those people had done. "They're just sheep, you know?" he asked, looking away.

"I don't know," Hiro said, confusion around the edges of his words.

"Those punks that beat you up. They're sheep. They fallow all the cool trends, and two nights ago, it was cool to hate the famous gay guy and beat the shit out of him. They don't have minds of their own. All those people, after you made that speech, didn't you hear them clapping? Sheep. Following the trends and trying to fit in. They just hate us because we're different. Well I hate them 'cause they're all the same."

"Isn't that a t-shirt?"

"So what. It's true!" Hiro laughed. It was true, sadly. So sadly that it was funny, but only bitterly. Yuki came out followed by his brother. Both, especially Yuki, had the same tan look. Hiro was aware of just how sickly he was going to look. Oh well, he just wouldn't watch the news for the next few days.

Suguru appeared. "What do we do now?" he asked. Tohma materialized in front of them all and supplied the answer. "Now, we go the back of the conference room and wait. There's food and drinks. We can have a little party." He was starting to sound fatalistic. He would face the ultimate judgment.

Hiro wondered what he would do with the fact that he was dating his cousin. It wasn't looked down upon- entirely- but it would manage to throw a wrench in the works, or a bone to the dogs. Whichever.

The scent of fresh coffee hung in the back room. A small table was laid out with a variety of sweet looking, glazed pastries. No one seemed hungry. The gnawing anxiety in everyone's stomach was almost audible. The clock called out each second with an ominous, hollow, call.

Tohma poured himself a mug of coffee and sat and nursed it. Fujisaki sat next to him, reading off of various newspapers. Hiro and Shuichi sat in a corner and their boyfriends were on the other side of the room talking about something that was probably morose.

"Hey, I got some lyrics written for that song. Yuki says they suck, but he didn't say it with as much hatred this time, so they have to be decent. Here." Shu handed Hiro an over folded piece of paper. "This was actually the easiest song I ever had to write."

Hiro scanned the lyrics. "This is really different from your other stuff." The pink haired boy nodded, "I know. That's why I like it. I'd sing it for you, but I think that it would ruin the atmosphere of doom." They laughed a little, but it was a lost noise.

"What's it called?" Hiro asked and handed the paper back. Shuichi tucked it into a pocket, "It's called Our-" Someone knocked on the door.

"Seguchi san?" Sakano poked his head in, "K can't hold them off anymore. Everything is set up, so were going to let them it. They're rabid!" He dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief and left muttering something about stress.

"Well," Tohma said after another deliberate sip of coffee, "Here we go." A surge of sound assailed them from behind the doors. It was going to be a long morning. Everyone began to move towards the door, sorting out into their pairs.

They took the stage to the flashes of cameras and the shouting of eager journalists. Their names were tossed around, lost and mingled. Tape recorders were held up as they all sat. When the six were settled and the shouting became screaming, Tohma said quietly and civilly into his microphone, "Welcome. Can we have the first question?"

The wave began anew and inflected tones filled the room. K went to the person Tohma pointed out and the day took its first, long, leap.

"Well, we avoided major disaster. Very well done. I'm sure that tickets to Bad Luck's upcoming concert are already sold out. That new song idea was very well planned." None of the members bothered to tell Tohma that the song was merely a coincidence and not even put together. It was going to be hell week for Bad Luck.

To Silverone: Yes it probably was out of character for Ayaka, but I uh, achooharborasecrethatredtowardsherachoo (move to end.)

To XTsukimiOgangoX, you didn't offend me, and your reviews _were _helpful, I just take things too seriously and think them over way too much when it concerns my writing (I also have lovely guilt complexes!). Oh, and I'm really glad you like the speech. That's the thing I'm proudest of. And, welcome to the Ayaka is Evil Club (no official membership offered).

Sorry to those that like Ayaka!

To CassiToTheSky, thank you for your opinion. I know that I _am _a bit wordy, because I don't revise (because I hate it! Who said that?) before I post. Nevertheless, I am really happythat you don't really think so and what you said about using owrds to impress is true. I don't do it, I just write what sounds pretty in my head.

Wow. My longest A/N ever. Anyway, I thought that this was going to be the last, but I don't think I can do it. I think I'm going one more chapter. Thanks to clari chan. You were the one that told me to continue. Well, I'm writing and I can't shut up. Thankies to Miss Nanoda, to whom this is dedicated, and to K-san for telling me that I can do this. Ya, one more. Prolly pretty short. Soon, I promise. I just have to write a song. Oi.


	5. Our Love

Don't own Gravitation; do own this fic, and the song.

"Hey, Hiro! Wait!" Shuichi came running up the hall to catch his best friend at the back door before he could make a big mistake. "You aren't going home on the bus are you? Not after this conference right?"

"I'm assuming not any more."

"Good," Shu laughed, pulling to a stop next to the guitarist and the monk. Eiri came walking calmly up the hall and pulled car keys from his pocket. "We taking them too?" he asked around a cigarette. Shuichi nodded and pushed open the door, leading his friends outside.

The natural light was glaringly different from the incandescent bulbs that shone on them in the conference room as they were pounded with questions. This light was soft and bright in a friendly way, not leering and beaming mischievously. It shimmered off the vanishing snow in a twinkling way that invited laughter and play. But the musicians were too busy to play, and nature's request was left alone.

Four car doors slammed, echoing against the N-G building. The luxuriant leather seats felt good, better than the sterile, hard office chairs dragged in for the conference. Hiro buckled and shrugged into a more comfortable position.

That conference had been quite a whirlwind of speculations, rumors, questions, and answers. He and Tatsuha had faired well, only lightly touching on the subject of religion because Tatsuha was a monk. Yuki and Shuichi had it even easier because they had gone through the whole deal a few weeks prior. They seemed more like judges, being asked questions about their friends' relationship instead of their own.

It was Tohma and Suguru that had it hardest. Partly because Suguru was so young, and partly because it was well known that Seguchi was already married.

"A divorce has been filed for," he had said. Hiro noted that there was a bit of regret in his voice. He could only imagine the regret in his wife's heart.

"Was Seguchi san serious about that divorce?" Hiro asked as Yuki pulled out of the parking space. "Yeah," he muttered, looking for an opening in the traffic.

"You talked to Mika then?" Shuichi asked. His boyfriend shook his head and plunged into an opening taking everyone in the car by surprise. When hearts ceased their frantic beating, Hiro posed his own boyfriend the question.

"Nope. I haven't talked to her for three days. I just hope that she saved my stuff from being burnt."

"Who's burning your stuff, why?" asked Shindou whipping around in his seat to look at the remorseful boy in the back. It was Yuki that answered. "If the old man can't kill him he's going to make his life as miserable as possible."

"That's awful!"

"That's family," Tatsuha smiled sardonically. His eyes were loaded full with sadness and hollow abandonment. He really was just a seventeen-year-old boy. Hiro snaked a hand out to the boy for reassurance. Suddenly that smile and those eyes were turned on him. Despondency gave way to mirth.

"Where did you say that you lived?" asked Yuki, obliterating the moment. Losing his grip on that hand and snapping back to reality Hiro pointed, "Just up there. I hope there's a parking spot."

"I'm sure that he has no intention of parking anyway. He'll probably just push us out of the car and hope for the best. What a brother." The carefree sarcasm returned.

"And risk you getting blood on my car? I don't think so." Was it possible that there were hints of humor staining the edges of the dark writer's voice?

"Is that Mika?" Shuichi shielded his eyes from the light and looked.

"Now you really have to stop," Tatsuha said looking at the woman next to the red convertible.

They pulled into an available space and everyone piled out of the car.

"Hey, little brother, I got your shit before Dad could heave it. All that Nittle Grasper stuff, and a few clothes that I thought you'd want. Wow, you got a hot one," she pushed her sunglasses up and looked over Hiroshi then glared at him. "You be good to my brother," she hissed then went to greet Eiri and Shindou.

Hiro stood stunned as Tatsuha started rummaging through the big, black garbage bags. "Don't mind her," he said, hugging a picture of Ryuichi, "she's always had something up her ass," He put the picture back and stood, "So sis, how are you doing?"

"I'm bitter, hormonal and I swerved out of the road just to hit a few squirrels that looked like my husband, so, all things considered, I'm just dandy."

"How many squirrels did you get?" Yuki asked slightly amused.

"Three out of four, not my best record."

"So, you're really OK?" Shuichi asked looking at Mika with pitying eyes.

"What's it to you punk?" She snapped, he winced. Rolling her eyes, "Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn. The bastard'll prolly find some snakes in the bed, but I'll get over it. It wasn't like- like," she stopped, realizing the she was treading in too deep. "Anyway. I have to go to the lawyer's office and sign some papers. It'll be a quick and painless divorce. For me at least," she said- without conviction. She waved a little goodbye and slid into her car, pulling out and then disappearing into traffic.

"She was going to say that it wasn't like Tohma married her for her. Just her-- connections," Yuki stated, watching her go. He turned back to the group. "Well, let's get that stuff upstairs and then we're going." He hefted a bag and headed for the door. Tatsuha grabbed one too, as did Shuichi. Hiro jogged ahead to get the door.

When the writer and singer were gone, Hiro looked around his apartment. The answer phone light was blinking. He pressed play. "Hey, little bro! How are you? I just read about you in the papers! Man, that stuff you said. You've got balls. I'm glad to call you my brother. Sorry, about Mom, she's a wreck. Striking you from the family. She'll get over it. Anyway, if you have time, call me. You know the number."

"Who was that?" Tatsuha asked, folding a sweater and setting it on a pile.

"It was my brother, Yuji."

"You should give him a call."

"Yeah, I should. Can you handle unpacking?"

"Can you handle my living here?"

"Yeah, like I have a choice." Hiro walked into the ruin of things and gave his love a brief kiss. "I'm going to make a phone call," he said, pressing the talk button on the phone and waiting for the dial tone. Tatsuha nodded and went back to folding clothes muttering, "Great, now I'm going to look like my sister dressed me. Honestly, she has no taste for clothes."

The night was cold and clear. The stars were glinting in the black velvet sky singing their song to anyone who would listen. They hardly suspected that the song was soon going to be paralleled for thousands.

"FIVE MINUTES!" Sakano whirled around the dressing room.

"So that means ten more minutes?" Hiro asked, looking up from his magazine.

"No!"

"Oh come on Sakano san, you know that the emcees are going to talk forever!" Shuichi moaned. "Besides," Suguru backed him up, "they have plenty of fodder, what with the recent events and all."

"Sometimes I swear they get paid by the minutes they can talk," Hiro laughed and resumed reading. Sakano retreated to a corner, utterly defeated. The musicians watched their producer for a few seconds before hearing a hammer cock out of the other corner of the room.

With hands up in surrender, they began the march up to the dark wings of the stage.

The house was full. Standing room only. It was still a little dizzying for the musicians, as they peeped around the corner to look at the eager faces. All of them radiated with the joy that they were actually here; they were going to see Bad Luck live!

"And now, with out further ado, is Bad Luck!" the emcees screamed, and retreated off the stage as if blown away by the detonation of screams from the fans.

Shuichi, Suguru and Hiro walked out onto the stage. They were frozen in that second, smiling, waving, winking. Shindou Kun just waved to _her_, Nakano had just smiled at _him_, Suguru had just winked at _them_. Exhilaration and screaming filled the room.

Shuichi grabbed the mic. "Hello Tokyo! We're Bad Luck!" The howl defied possibility and intensified. "This is Shindou, that's Fujisaki!" he played a wavering chord on the synth, "and that's Nakano!" Hiro strummed out an ecstatic series of notes.

Shuichi looked back over his shoulder and mouthed, "Ready?" His band mates nodded and Fujisaki dove into the intro of Blind Game Again. Hiro picked his way in and Shuichi began to sing. The screams gave one final push and died away, replaced by clapping, dancing and the homely hum of people singing along.

The band bashed their way through song after song, altering each with improv and little stories between songs. It all lead up to the end. That was what everyone was waiting for. The new song. The one hinted at for ages and promised by the press conference. It came in due time.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Shuichi spoke. "Now's the time. Everyone's been waiting for it, are you ready for Our Love?" The crowd went ballistic.

The gentle ripple of notes coming from the synth subdued them. It was like rain, dripping from the eaves of a country home. It emanated with the joy of a full stream in spring. Gentle acoustic guitar coupled with it, humming with a bittersweet melody that seemed to have been taken right from the lonely skies seen through desolate lovers' eyes. Vocals came in, mingling with the rest of the jubilant melancholy, like the voice of the sweetest seraphim, fired with an unholy passion "Shh," he sang.

_Shh_

_Listen to the rain_

_Tears between our hearts_

_Scarlet with passion_

_Red blood is flowing_

_Glorious fashion_

_Our love_

_Hey_

_Listen to the wind_

_Breath between our lips_

_Silvered innocence_

_Daunting in the light_

_Our love_

_Our love_

_We don't listen_

_To what they say_

_Let the fervor reign_

_Without care_

_Removed from time_

_Exist within the stars_

_What_

_Listen to the earth_

_Skin between our souls_

_White with pulsing life _

_Constantly moving_

_Living the strife of_

_Our love_

_Now_

_Listen to the fire_

_Rage between our minds_

_Orange angered glow_

_Words are arising_

_Taking their mark_

_Out love_

_Our love_

_We don't listen_

_To what they say_

_Let the fervor reign_

_Without care_

_Removed from time_

_Exist within the stars_

_Tears between our hearts_

_Breath between our lips_

_Skin between out souls_

_Rage between our minds_

_Can't you hear the stars proclaiming_

_Exonerating_

_Singing of_

_Us_

The crowd was silent until the last echo resonance of the song faded, then they burst with awe, approval, love, inspiration, and too many other sensations to name. With a humble thank you and small bow, the band glided off the stage. The cheering went on.

From a private box in the balcony Tohma turned to those sitting with him. "Amazing," his voice rattled with wonderment, "I've never felt such a presence from them, or anyone else."

"They were tight too. They sounded good, even though the lyrics are all trash," but even Eiri couldn't hide the respect in his voice.

Tatsuha sat back; a mischievous smile sprawled across his face. "Ooh, that boy is _so _getting lucky tonight."

To Silverone: I'm sorry I came off as bashing Ayaka. I know that she's a strong person and really very kind, but for some reason, she just kinda grates on my nerves. Like Botan, from Yu Yu Hakusho. Sorry, again, I'm not really a mean person. Argh, sometimes I just don't think. Rayne wa baka! Excuse me, I must find HULY to hit me with a few breadsticks (and no K san, no razor blades will be in them, I like my bread white, not red).

To XTsukimiOdangoX: Thank you for what you said! blush It means a lot to me. I hope I didn't make the wrong impression on you, I'm not really a little whiny brat, I swear on the souls of my friends (that OK with you guys? Darklore Wings? HULY?). I haven't read your stuff yet, but it's my policy that I return reviews. I'll get around to it, for everyone, I just have to be in a reading mode, and that may take a while.

Also, sorry, I know that you said I was good at updating frequently, except when writers block hits.

Now I really have to thank HULY chan forgetting me out of it. "Do something that you would never do." Well after I got out of thinking that I needed a plot twist, I realized I could do something I never do. Humor! Good grief you're great HULY!

And I can't forget Darklore Wings. You're calming words in that email O great master, were enough to make Poe sane again. And to clari chan as well, a new friend. You were the one who wanted to hear more, so here you go (did I say that same thing already?)!

There you go. That's it. I hoped that you like it. I'm sorry about 2 things. The fight, maybe one day I'll revisit it and make it better, and the song. I'm sorry, it sucks. I know. I hope you felt like it was a good ending. I hope I didn't disappoint you guys. You've done so much for me, sticking around and bearing through all the crud, I owe you. I'll read your stories, I promise, just give me time.

Now, go flame me for a bad song, or crappy ending or whatever. I'm wearing fireproof clothes so I can deal.

Arigato gozaimashita to everyone who read.

Rayne


End file.
